


Assurance

by pressedinthepages



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, whoops sorry i broke your shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27420865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedinthepages/pseuds/pressedinthepages
Summary: Jaskier tries to reassure you with his love in a very effective manner.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Kudos: 15





	Assurance

**Author's Note:**

> Reader Request [Hi, new follower and I wanted to say how much I love your writing and possibly request something please? Could you please write something with a female reader where she's had a bad relationship before and one day she's strumming Jaskiers lute and accidentally breaks one of the strings....she's really nervous and panicked he'll be mad and when he gets back he can see how upset and scared she is. But when she tells him he shows her how he'd never hurt her? ❤️ With smut pls? You're so good at it lol and I love the way you write his dialogue ❤️❤️❤️] <3 of course love :)

The breeze flows through your hair as you sit at the base of a tall pine, Jaskier’s precious lute leaned beside you on the ground. He has disappeared into a field of blueberries and lavender at the bottom of the hill you rest atop of, leaving you with a gentle kiss to your cheek and a request to watch over his instrument. 

Your fingers drift over the elven wood, and it almost sings to you with the barest touch. You reach over and pick up the lute, placing it gently in your lap. You glance up, catching a glimpse of the bright yellow of Jaskier’s doublet flitting between the cool purples and greens. The wood is warm under your fingers, almost unnaturally so. It calls out to you, begging to be played.

Your fingers hover over the strings before sliding gently, plucking a few and letting the sound ring out over the berry patch. You miss how Jaskier’s head jumps up out of the bushes at the noise, smiling wide as he watches you wander aimlessly over the instrument, your head bent in concentration. 

You start working at a rhythm, nothing particular coming to mind as you let your fingers dance over the neck. And then you make a mistake, your world narrowing into nothing as you pull the thinnest string. You watch in slow-motion as it snaps, sending a sour twang into the valley and through your heart. 

You freeze, stuck in mortification, your eyes flitting over the swirl of the fractured string. Your blood pounds in your ears, your heart racing beneath your chest as you glance down and see Jaskier coming back up the hill. Tears spring into your eyes and you fight them back, your chest heaving with panic. 

“Jaskier, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” your voice breaks into a sob as you back up against the tree, hugging your knees tight to your chest. His eyes, so beautiful and blue, flit back and forth between you and the lute, trying desperately to connect the dots. 

“My dear, it’s alright, it was an accident…”

“But I  _ broke  _ it! I should’ve just kept my hands to myself, I’m so stupid-”

“No!” Jaskier breaks your spiral, kneeling before you and reaching out his hands for your own. You carefully reach back, his hands warm when his fingers wrap themselves into your grasp. “You are not stupid, love. It is nothing more than a little string, terribly simple to fix. Besides, it’s a  _ thing.  _ I care so much more for you,” he brushes your hair away from your face, dragging his finger down your cheek, “that simple words truly cannot do it justice.”

You sniffle a bit, leaning into where his hand still lays on your cheek. “I thought you’d be upset, Jaskier…”

“Never with you, my darling. You are far too precious to me to be upset with about something as silly as a little string.” Jaskier’s voice is barely above a whisper, his lips turned up in a reassuring smile as he leans to press a gentle kiss against your cheek. You sigh as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close. He chuckles a bit as he turns the two of you around, settling you in his lap while still engulfed in his embrace. 

“I really am sorry, Jaskier.”

“I know, love. Oh!” Jaskier perks up a bit, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “How does this sound: Why don’t we head back to town, I think I have an extra set of strings in my bag. You can help me restring it!”

You smile into the crook of his neck, nodding a bit as the last of your tears dry. “I’d like that.”

* * *

The two of you sit on the floor in front of the fire, the sun having long set beneath the horizon. Jaskier’s fingers move confidently, untying the broken string and setting it to the side. He dutifully explains every step as he attaches the new string to the bridge and brings it up, tying the other end around the tuning peg. His smile is wide as he chats, his hands moving mindlessly as he tightens the string.

“Here,” he says when he is finished, “give it a pluck.”

You raise your eyebrow, tilting away from him a bit. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea-”

“Nonsense! Here, I’ll show you how.” Jaskier shuffles to sit behind you, settling the lute in your lap as his legs wrap around yours. You can feel his breath on the back of your neck and his heart thumping in his chest. “Here, love. Hold the neck here, and give me your other hand.”

You wordlessly follow his instructions and Jaskier wraps his hand around the outside of yours, pushing your hand to rest atop the strings. “Now, just barely give it a pull, just enough to let it sing.”

You do, and the one note resounds in the quiet of the room, dissipating as quickly as it arrived. You smile as Jaskier presses his lips to the crook of your neck, and you can feel the grin on his lips. “Now my love,” he whispers, “I’d like to show you just how much I love you.”

Your head falls back onto his shoulder and you squeeze his hand in your own.  _ “Jaskier,”  _ you gasp as the lute is pulled from your hands and set a safe distance away. His fingers yank your shirt from where it is tucked into your trousers and up over your head. Your nipples harden under the pads of his fingers when they dig into the tender flesh, kneading and rolling the peaks like the sweetest dough. 

You feel just the smallest glance of teeth where Jaskier sucks along your neck and you moan darkly, reaching for his thighs just to touch, feel,  _ have  _ him under your skin. Jaskier moves slowly, roving his hips around you, slinking out of his chemise before facing you. Your fingers scratch lightly through the generous dusting of hair over his chest, biting your lip as he moans when you brush over one of his nipples. 

He leans down and presses his lips to yours, pressing himself between your thighs as his hands rove across your shoulders and down your hips. His tongue licks into your mouth, gentle and loving with every kiss. Your hands move to the buttons on his trousers, fumbling through each until they are loose enough for you to slide them over his backside. Jaskier chuckles as he shimmies out of them, chucking them to the side before working on yours. 

He moves with much more ease, a “blink and you’ll miss it” sort of experience. Your trousers join his, discarded within a matter of heartbeats. Both of your underthings are thrown aside as well, leaving you both bare and reaching for any and every inch of skin that you can reach.

Jaskier’s fingers find your core, running through the slick before plunging in. Your breasts heave with a sigh, your hips chasing his fingers as he begins to languidly thrust in and out. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, weeping a bit with neglect. Jaskier rubs his thumb in little circles over the sensitive peak of your core, leaning down to kiss up your stomach once more.

“Please, Jask,” you murmur, threading your fingers into his hair. He nuzzles against your chest, his stubble just barely scratching your skin. He pushes himself up to rest on his hand, his other hand reaching down to guide himself to press against your cunt.

“You sure, love?” He asks, his nose brushing yours as he gazes into your eyes. You peck his lips, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking your ankles together.

You smile, nodding into him. “Yes, Jaskier. Please, love me.”

“Always and forever, my dear.”

Jaskier slowly pushes into you, stretching you wide on his cock. Your head hits the floor with a faint  _ thunk,  _ relishing in the feeling of being so thoroughly filled. Jaskier surrounds you, his arms moving rest on the floor with his elbows. His hand fit under your shoulders and his head fits into the crook of your neck as he begins to move, short little thrusts that promise so much more to come.

“Go on, Jaskier.  _ Please,”  _ you whisper, and his pace picks up. Jaskier’s hips snap against yours with a lazy speed, hitting the bundle of nerves nestled deep in your core with every thrust. Your nails scratch along his hair, pulling him to your lips as he gasps into your mouth.

His chest is flushed up into his neck and you can tell he’s close, his eyes glazed over with how fucked out his mind is. Heat creeps up from your core, pleasure shooting through your spine faster and faster with each passing moment. Your climax comes like a breath of fresh air after too long underwater, a gasping relief that soars under your skin.

Jaskier follows not too long after, spending himself deep inside of you. Your foreheads rest together, sweaty and sticky and too blissed out to move. You stay like that as the moon creeps higher and higher, and Jaskier finally pulls himself out of you. 

He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you flush against his side. Jaskier’s heart beats loudly against your ear, slowing with each deep breath he takes. “I love you my dear,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, “more than you can ever know.”

You smile, nuzzling into his chest. “I think I may have some idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading :) you can find me on tumblr @pressedinthepages


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